Thank You, Sir
by Lamento Eroico
Summary: “Cherish it,” he whispered with a hint of venom, “and keep it secret.” [1 year before AC][RufusElena][sexual themes][oneshot]


Rufus Shinra took a deep breath as his cool blue eyes gazed up at the star-filled sky. Two lampposts off in the distance seemed dim and worthless against the natural light shining from up above. He stood outside of the Healin Lodge, close to the railing on the front porch. He was instinctively leaning on a sturdy wooden cane—a habit he detested but knew he had to develop nonetheless. He was still recovering from the effects of Diamond Weapon's attack. The noxious fumes and smoke from the smoldering office paired with his newly diagnosed geostigma forced him into a wheelchair, as he was only allowed by the doctors to walk no further than fifty feet at a time in order to prevent respiratory complications.

On one hand, his inner spoiled brat loved the thought of being constantly doted upon and being given everyone's undivided attention. Being pushed around in a chair sure beat walking distances, after all. On the other hand, however, how could he reassume his place as President and be taken seriously if he lacked a powerful presence? How could people follow orders from a man they had to look down on? But yet, on the other hand, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. After all, he had suffered an attack from the planet itself and lived, so how _couldn't_ people take him seriously? He frowned suddenly, realizing that in his confusion and thought he had magically grown three hands.

"You know, sir…" came a soft yet slightly squeaky female voice from behind him. "When I can't sleep, sometimes I just like to lie in bed and wrap myself in my sheets. It feels almost like the darkness of the night is holding me tightly, and nothing else in the world matters. Not my job, not my failures, not my mistakes, not even Reno busting on me all the time." She said that last part with a small laugh. "It's just me—me and the darkness."

"That's nice, Elena," Rufus said sourly. "So why aren't you there now?"

"Because it's so bright out tonight," the blonde said more cheerfully than Rufus would have liked. With a small smile, she put her hands behind her back and began to slowly rock back and forth on her heels. "Besides, that's not the point I was trying to make, anyway. You worry too much about the future of the Company and the rebuilding of Shinra. It stresses you out when all you should be doing is resting."

"So you're saying that if the Company went under, and Shinra was never restored, you wouldn't care?" he asked with a frown. "That's not something a paid, trained, professional, and seemingly loyal Turk should say."

"That's not what I mean, either." She stood up straight shook her head. Blonde hair fell into her face as she did, but she carefully slid it back behind her ears with her slender fingers. "I'm saying that maybe you shouldn't worry about it until you're feeling better. You're too caught up in everything else and worrying about whether the general public will accept you back or not that you can't possibly recuperate properly—both physically and mentally."

"Maybe," he simply stated, then said nothing more.

After a few seconds of waiting impatiently for her employer to continue, Elena cocked her head to the side and looked up at him. Despite the fact that he was leaning on a cane for support, the President seemed just as strong and unbreakable as he always had been.

He had always been somewhat of an enigma to her. The young President preferred always to be alone with his thoughts—he never seemed to open up to anyone. The only real emotion he ever showed was agitation, disappointment, or on rare occasions, exhaustion. Every other time Elena had spoken with him or seen him dealing with others, he had always been firm and steady, unwavering in his convictions and his expectation of others. Sometimes, she wondered if he ever really truly felt anything at all…

"Untouchable," she said out loud. Realizing that she had done just that, the blood drained from her face and she quickly threw her hand up to cover her mouth, hoping and praying that he hadn't heard her.

But it was true. That was the way she had viewed him. Untouchable, ethereal, and indestructible were just a few words that came to mind. Even though she constantly had dealings with him, he always seemed to speak down to her without actually _looking_ down at her. She trembled at the thought, and often times wondered if her trembling was due to some kind of fear of him, or some sort of hidden curiosity and piqued interest that almost begged to know more.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing, sir. Nothing."

"You know, Elena…" he said as he turned towards her. It was then that he was actually able to look at her for the first time that night. She was in her nightclothes, which consisted of an almost see-through white satin shirt and a pair of baggy blue cotton shorts. And what's more, the President highly doubted that she wore anything beneath them. He ran his eyes up and down her small body and his breath almost caught in his throat at the thought. The light from the sky surrounded her, giving one of his most trusted fighters a look of frailty and innocence. He continued on with his statement, though it seemed to have a bit more of an edge to it than he had originally intended. "I hate being lied to."

"Of course, sir," she said in a shaky voice.

Not only could she see him blatantly looking at her from head to toe, she could _feel_ his eyes on her, which sparked that fearful wanting once more. A lump formed in her throat, and she squirmed knowing that he was still looking at her. He brought his cane forward, and even though it was barely noticeable, he leaned in at the very slightest in order to study her even more closely.

She felt her skin tingle and become hot as she met his eyes at last. They were just as firm and steady as they always were, but somehow his gaze seemed more icy than usual. They were only staring at her. Not at a job mishap, not at the report from a mission—they stared at her and her alone. He gave off this sinfully attractive aura, and it was all Elena could do to swallow and divert her eyes to her feet.

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Now, you were saying…"

"You just seem so… so… unreal at times, sir. It's like nothing bothers you, even though it does. And it… it…" she trailed off.

"Intimidates you," he finished.

"Sometimes," she whispered. She instinctively brought a hand up to her opposite elbow and began to rub it, as if it were sore. It was a nervous habit, but it brought her somewhat comfort. Somewhat. As if realizing what she was doing, she snapped her head back up with a worried look on her face. "I'm sorry, sir, I'll go now. I talk too much."

She hurried towards the door, her heart pounding. She had just made a fool of herself in front of the President. Acting like this in front of the Turks was one thing—they were her friends and understood that she sometimes felt her feelings a bit more strongly than most, and that she talked way too much. But in front of the President? She was ashamed. Just because she had been partially taking care of him for the past few months didn't mean that they were friends by any means, or even that they were on the same level. She fumbled with the doorknob, and began to pull the door open—

--when it was immediately snapped shut again. She looked up. Rufus was holding the door closed. She lowered her head and kept it facing directly in front of her, and in disbelief she slowly shifted her gaze to the corners of her eyes, where she saw a lone wooden cane propped up against the railing. She held her breath for a moment.

"Sir," she breathed, "you really shouldn't be walking around without your—"

Her thoughts were immediately cut off as Rufus took a step forward, pressing his body up against her back. Her cheeks felt hot; the President was only wearing a tight-fitting black t-shirt and cream-colored linen pants. Through those thin but tight clothes, Elena thought as though she could feel every inch and curve of his body. Her lips trembled as she exhaled. _No! You idiot!_ she thought to herself, _He's your boss! And what about Tseng?_

He leaned his head down, his lips hovering a fraction of an inch above her neck. He could feel her trembling, and almost touch her nervousness. His mind reeled. Oh, he was enjoying this. Elena let out a tiny, near inaudible squeak. His breath was hot against her bare skin, and Elena thought that the heat she was feeling was only a mere taste of the heat of the forge he had inside. Her knees shook at the thought.

"Tell me," he whispered. "Would my touch kill you?"

She hesitated.

"Y-yes…" she confessed softly. She held her breath.

"Good."

His lips peeled back into a devilish smile. He snaked his right arm around her slender waist, and reached down with his left to firmly grasp the soft skin on her inner thigh, his hand halfway into the bottom of her shorts. She let out the breath she was holding as she felt his lips against the base of her neck, kisses quickly turning into soft nibbling.

Elena's entire world shattered immediately. She felt her entire body quickly become hot, matching the heat given off by her partner. Her legs shook violently at the President's firm but gentle touch, and she threw her head back and let out a soft moan as the heat that once enveloped her whole body shot quickly downwards toward her feet, which were now numb and tingling. In the back of her mind, something told her that it was a bad thing for him to be supporting her entire weight, but she couldn't register the reason why and didn't care. Her whole body convulsed as a new bit of sticky warmth began to spread out from between her legs. She let her head dropped and she let out another trembling moan, as she faintly felt Rufus's tongue now working its way up her neck and behind her ear.

The feeling left her as quickly as it came, and in its wake was a feeling of light-headedness and dizziness—not to mention extreme satisfaction—and all of her thoughts came to her all jumbled up. She breathed heavily to try to clear her mind, but it was of no use.

"Cherish it," he whispered with a hint of venom, "and keep it secret."

She absently nodded her head, and once more fumbled for the doorknob.

"Thank you, sir," she mumbled, and stumbled back inside, collapsing on the floor.

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**Author's Notes:** All right, this kind of came to me on a whim. It only took me two hours to write, which isn't long considering I was talking to like 20 people as I was writing it. Please keep in mind that I wrote this without a break and only looked over it twice... and it's 2:30 in the morning. So if it isn't top-notch and on par with my other stories, I apologize. But smut!Rufus muse wanted this done, (he's been awfully chatty lately-- keep your eyes peeled for another fic of him), and Elena didn't complain... So just click the review button, and tell me what you think.


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